Tag: Inculturation

This book is a study of the spirituality of Patrick through his own writings, the Confession and the Letter. It is shaped as a series of thirty meditations which may be read in the course of a month, including the author’s own reflections upon Patrick’s use of Scripture, and songs from the Carmina Gadelica.

It is the author’s contention that Patrick can be fairly understood as A Celtic Charismatic, in his commitment to Scripture, his emphasis upon mission and in a lifestyle directed and empowered by the Holy Spirit.
This book is intended as a conversation-starter, perhaps mostly with the Christians of Ireland, towards the recovery of a vital faith and vigorous response to the challenges of our day.
“He who wants can laugh and jeer, but I shall not keep silent nor keep hidden the signs and wonders which have been shown to me by the Lord…”

Croagh Patrick is an impressive mountain in Mayo in the west of Ireland, where, according to legend, Patrick spent forty days and nights in a Lenten fast in 441 AD. Its name comes from the Irish Cruach Phádraig meaning “Patrick’s stack”. It is known locally as “the Reek”, a Hiberno-English word for a “rick” or “stack.”

On Reek Sunday ( Domhnach na Cruaiche)- the last Sunday in July- there is an annual day of pilgrimage when pilgrims climb Ireland’s “holiest mountain,” some in their bare feet. The pilgrimage has been held yearly for about 1,500 years, but the Reek’s reputation as a holy place and a place of pilgrimage predates even that event and there have been archaeological finds there that suggest it had a ritual significance for centuries before that.

This melding of ancient Irish traditions with more recent Christian ones is not unusual. In their efforts to bring Christianity to Ireland, Patrick and those who followed him adopted a successful strategy of holding Christian celebrations in places that were already used for pre-Christian worship, thus easing the transition to a new religion; Croagh Patrick was one such place.

While it is not a high mountain, the tradition that pilgrims should make the climb barefoot is no mean feat since the slope is covered in rough loose shingle and sharp stones. The loose surface makes coming down again as hard as getting up.

There are a number of factors that make the climbing of Croagh Patrick a suitable metaphor for the pursuit of Patrick’s spirituality.

First, it is a journey into Ireland’s past, where legend and history seem to lose independent structure and cohesion. People speak of the “mists of time” and Croagh Patrick, with its endless swirls of fog and low cloud exemplifies both metaphor and geographical reality. The legends speak of the mountain as a place of confrontation between Patrick and the powers of paganism that threatened to overwhelm him.

Second, it’s a journey into Ireland’s present, with its overlay of “green beer” tourism, faux-culture and religious superstition across a deep sense of humility and God-consciousness. Some find a value, a meaning for their lives which continues to sustain them. Others try on spiritualities like new clothes, and abandon them when they become tired of them.

Climbing Croagh Patrick indicates a different thing altogether – a spirituality which is very simple. It is a journey, and an unexpectedly arduous one. The majestic summit is clearly visible from a great distance but as one approaches, the summit vanishes and all we can see is the intervening slope. It requires grit and determination to succeed, and the way is often confused by the encroaching fog.

Patrick offered clarity in the confusion, and purpose for the lost. His sense of vocation was quite straightforward. He believed himself loved, blessed and called by God to Ireland, and to that sense of calling he responded. And he responded with a sense of loyalty and determination which made the most arduous journey possible.

It is an appropriate metaphor.

A shade art thou in the heat,
A shelter art thou in the cold,
Eyes art thou to the blind,
A staff art thou to the pilgrim,
An island art thou at sea,
A fortress art thou on land,
A well art thou in the desert,
Health art thou to the ailing.

I must take care not to hide the gift of God which he has generously given us in the land of my captivity. (33)

The double reference here is to Paul’s injunction to Timothy to “stir up the gift” within him (2 Timothy 1:6) and to the story that Jesus told about the “Talents” which one hapless recipient hid, rather than put to use (Matt 25:14-30). In Patrick’s mind, both the gift (of apostolic mission) and the place of service are one and the same. They are the land of my captivity.

It’s an interesting way of putting it. Patrick had been enslaved as a boy, of course, during which captivity he turned to Christ. Now as an adult he has returned as a “slave of Christ” and may still fairly call Ireland the land of my captivity.

In the following section (Confession 34), he describes the holy and wonderful work to which he is committed. In the casual and highly personal terms of someone testifying in a church meeting, he says:

In this way I can imitate somewhat those whom the Lord foretold would announce his gospel in witness to all nations before the end of the world. This is what we see has been fulfilled. Look at us: we are witnesses that the gospel has been preached right out to where there is nobody else there!

One catches the excitement of Patrick’s understanding of the missionary work to which he has been called. Even though what he does is but a pale imitation (In this way I can imitate somewhat…), it is part of something long foretold would happen before the end of the world. That is, quite simply, that the gospel would be preached to the ends of the world, and, as far his geography lessons can teach him, that’s exactly where he stands: Look at us: we are witnesses that the gospel has been preached right out to where there is nobody else there!

So Patrick stands at the end of the known world, preaching the gospel, as he believes, at the end of the age. Imagine having that sense of destiny and purpose.

And if our understanding of both geography and history have extended –it wasn’t the end of the world, and it wasn’t the time of Christ’s return- our perception of spiritual reality falls far short of Patrick’s. We preen ourselves on our scientific knowledge but have little notion of our place in God’s scheme of things.

Patrick knew, and he had a “holy ambition” to see it done, and done well.

Reflection

There is a strong connection between what I may call the “missionary heart” of both Patrick and Paul. It’s very evident in Paul’s declaration at the end of Romans (15:16-24), which reads thus:

For I will not venture to speak of anything except what Christ has accomplished through me to bring the Gentiles to obedience—by word and deed, by the power of signs and wonders, by the power of the Spirit of God—so that from Jerusalem and all the way around to Illyricum I have fulfilled the ministry of the gospel of Christ; and thus I make it my ambition to preach the gospel, not where Christ has already been named… but as it is written, “Those who have never been told of him will see, and those who have never heard will understand.” … But now, since I no longer have any room for work in these regions, and since I have longed for many years to come to you, I hope to see you in passing as I go to Spain… (Rom 15:18-24)

Paul also possessed limitations in his own knowledge, but he understood “holy ambition” just as surely as did Patrick.

It’s there in v20: “And thus I make it my ambition to preach the gospel, not where Christ has already been named….”

Paul, as Patrick, was driven by a holy ambition. He mentions being often hindered (v22) and yet longing to see the project through. That is to say, he was driven by his passion for mission. There was no way he could go to Rome until he had finished in the regions from Jerusalem to Illyricum. But finally, he says in v23, “I no longer have any room for work in these regions.” So: “I hope to see you in passing as I go to Spain.” (v24)

Both Patrick and Paul had a holy ambition to see people from all the nations who had never heard of Jesus believe in Him and become obedient to Him.

When Paul came to Christ (Acts 9, 22, 26), he was told this: “I am sending you [to the Gentiles, the nations] to open their eyes, so that they may turn from darkness to light and from the power of Satan to God, that they may receive forgiveness of sins and a place among those who are sanctified by faith in me” (Acts 26:18).

Where does holy ambition come from? It comes from a personal encounter with the living Christ shaped and informed by the written word of God and empowered by the Holy Spirit.

God doesn’t lead us into ambitions that are pointless—that you will regret at the end of your life. There is always a need to be met—not a need in God, but in the world—by a holy ambition. Holy ambitions are not about self-exaltation. They are always a form of love. They always meet someone’s need.

Now what is the need Paul refers to in this text? Verse 20: “Thus I make it my ambition to preach the gospel, not where Christ has already been named.” That means that Paul has set his face like flint to preach the gospel to people who have never heard of Christ. They don’t even know his name.

So, we come to v19: “From Jerusalem and all the way around to Illyricum I have fulfilled the ministry of the gospel of Christ.” That’s from Jerusalem up through Syria, across Asia Minor (Turkey), down through Greece on the east side and up the west to northern Italy where Albania is today. Paul says he has fulfilled the gospel there. And he underlines that astonishing statement in verse 23 by saying, “I no longer have any room for work in these regions.” And then in verse 24 he says, “I go to Spain.”

What does that mean? Surely there was much to be done in those regions? How could he say his job was done? Simply that Paul was not a local evangelist, but a frontier missionary, a pioneer missionary. That is, his calling and his ambition was not to do evangelism where the church has been planted. The church should do that! No, his call was to go where they didn’t even know the name.

This was Paul’s ambition. And since the great commission to make disciples of all nations is still valid and there are peoples today who do not know the gospel, therefore every church should pray that God raise up many frontier missionaries, and make all of us evangelists.

And this, I believe, was the central hub of Patrick’s missionary heart. He felt the honour and privilege of his calling, just as he understood its immensity and his own inadequacy.

Patrick’s emphasis on the Trinity is reflected throughout his writings. He regarded its teaching as pivotal to the telling of the gospel story, as is evident in the opening words of section 14 of the Confession: In the knowledge of this faith in the Trinity.

The strength and centrality of this emphasis can be seen in the way it found expression in the much later writings collected in the Carmina Gadelica and was invoked at the commencement of every action and event, large and small. Here’s a night-time prayer, for example:

I lie down this night with God And God will lie down with me I lie down this night with Christ And Christ will lie down with me I lie down this night with the Spirit And the Spirit will lie down with me.

A prayer for protection:

The arm of God be about you,

The way of Christ guide you,

The strength of the Spirit support you.

The holy God encircle you and keep you safe;

A final example from the Carmina Gadelica is more explicitly explanatory, and yet it is still simple and natural, even homespun, and far removed from the intellectual and abstract conceptualising of the Church Fathers.

Three folds of the cloth, yet only one napkin is there,

Three joints in the finger, but still only one finger fair,

Three leaves of the shamrock, yet no more than one shamrock to wear,

Frost, snow-flakes and ice, all in water their origin share,

Three Persons in God: to one God alone we make our prayer.

The Trinity was accepted in Celtic spirituality as simply the way things are. This is how nature is; this is how God is, and this is how we are, in our true being, as made in the image of God.

What are the implications of this way of thinking?

Working and extrapolating from the facts of Patrick’s life, a key consequence of so emphasising the Trinity would be the balance between being true to ourselves and yet being a person for others. Of course, our culture is dominated by the former consideration but it would be a mistake to think that the ancient people whom Patrick encountered would have been so very different at heart, even if “true to ourselves” had a strongly tribal connotation.

“True to ourselves” for Patrick indicated the passion of his missionary calling, and “being a person for others” indicated the people to whom he was sent.

Secondly, the doctrine of the Trinity would have implications for an understanding of creation. God, unlike the gods in other ancient creation stories, did not need to go outside himself to create the universe. Instead, the Word and the Spirit were like his own two hands (to use the famous phrase of Irenaeus) in fashioning the seen world.

God created by speaking (the Word) as the Spirit hovered over the chaos. Creation, like regeneration, is a Trinitarian act, with God working by the agency of the Word spoken and the mysterious movement of the Holy Spirit.

Third, the Trinity would have implications for the way Patrick understood evangelism and cultural engagement. As a missionary, Patrick would have encountered two opposite spiritual tendencies: one would have been a unity of language, culture, and expression—without allowing much variance for diversity.

But at the same time, there would certainly have been a wide diversity of opinion, belief, and background—without attempting to see things in any kind of meta-unity.

In this context, a teaching of the Trinity would allow for both diversity and unity. If God exists in three distinct Persons who all share the same essence, then it is possible to hope that God’s creation may exhibit stunning variety and individuality while still holding together in a genuine oneness.

And this would carry enormous implications for the communities that Patrick sought to develop. Patrick celebrated a God who he understood was in constant and eternal relationship with himself as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

This is the underlying reality of Christian community, for it is only here that interpersonal community can be seen as the expression of the nature of God. Without a plurality of persons in the Godhead, we would be forced to think that God created humans so that he might show love and know love, thereby making love a created thing (and God becoming a needy deity!).

But the Trinity shows us that we can say that God did not create in order to be loved, but rather, created out of the overflow of the perfect love that had always existed among Father, Son, and Holy Spirit who ever live in perfect and mutual relationship and delight (Quoting Kevin DeYoung).

Is this the reason that Patrick so emphasised the Trinity? Its teaching celebrated both unity and diversity (and so provided a bridge into Celtic culture); its teaching encapsulated the gospel story (and so simplified evangelism); and its teaching provided method and means of creating Christian community.

One time I was put to the test by some superiors of mine. They came and put my sins against my hard work as a bishop. (26)

Here we see Patrick on the defensive; this odd couple of sentences has led to a lot of (odd) theorising about exactly why he wrote the Confession.

For the main, of course, the whole text is a declaration of his faith and of God’s dealings with him, but here Patrick tells us that he was subjected to criticism from others, including those whom he calls” senioribusmeis” (“My bosses”). The charge brought against Patrick referred to something which had happened in his past and which had been disclosed through a betrayal of confidence on the part of a close friend.

They brought up against me after thirty years something I had already confessed before I was a deacon. What happened was that, one day when I was feeling anxious and low, with a very dear friend of mine I referred to some things I had done one day — rather, in one hour — when I was young, before I overcame my weakness. I don’t know — God knows — whether I was then fifteen years old at the time, and I did not then believe in the living God, not even when I was a child. In fact, I remained in death and unbelief until I was reproved strongly, and actually brought low by hunger and nakedness daily. (27)

There have been many guesses as to what crime a 15-yr old could commit that could so blacken the reputation of a 45-yr old, but guesses they remain. Patrick himself refers to it as my weakness which he later overcame by turning to Christ. In fact he refers to his time as a slave (being brought low by hunger and nakedness daily) as the very circumstance that enabled him to find God, and so leave his sinful past behind.

But the point here is not quite the sin, but the betrayal. Patrick seemed to feel the pain of his friend’s betrayal long afterwards, and the memory of it was still fresh with him as he wrote his Confession.

But I grieve more for my very dear friend, that we had to hear such an account — the one to whom I entrusted my very soul. I did learn from some brothers before the case was heard that he came to my defence in my absence. I was not there at the time, not even in Britain, and it was not I who brought up the matter. In fact it was he himself who told me from his own mouth: ‛Look, you are being given the rank of bishop’. That is something I did not deserve. How could he then afterwards come to disgrace me in public before all, both good and bad, about a matter for which he had already freely and joyfully forgiven me, as indeed had God, who is greater than all? (32)

The implication here is that certain sins may be overlooked for a mere deacon, but upon news of Patrick’s promotion, (Look, you are being given the rank of bishop) his friend felt duty-bound to report this ancient pecadillo to the powers that be. If it was a sense of duty, it certainly hints of jealousy too.

Memo to self: Be careful when you “confess your sins to one another.”

There are other references too, to Patrick being on the defensive. He doesn’t explain it fully, but it may be that there was a charge of financial impropriety. He writes that he returned the gifts which wealthy women gave him, did not accept payment for baptisms, nor for ordaining priests, and indeed paid for many gifts to kings and judges, and paid for the sons of chiefs to accompany him. Was the charge that he had obtained his position as bishop with a view to making money out of it? (44)

From this same evidence, something can be seen of the shape of Patrick’s mission. He writes that he baptised thousands of people (45) and ordained priests to lead the new Christian communities. He saw wealthy women converted, some of whom became nuns in the teeth of family hostility. He also dealt with the sons of kings, converting them too (46). Consequently, his position as a foreigner in Ireland was not an easy one. His refusal to accept gifts from kings placed him outside the normal ties of kinship, fosterage and affinity. Legally he was without protection, and he says that he was on one occasion beaten, robbed of all he had, and put in chains, perhaps awaiting execution (47)

Patrick knows that much has been accomplished by his work in Ireland (38, 41), and yet we are struck by his humility. Nowhere does he try to hide the fact that he has made mistakes (46). He is open about that early sin (whatever it was) (26). In the same vein, he shrugs his shoulders about his lack of education (1, 9, Letter 1) and claims to be completely unworthy of the fruit that has resulted from his work (55).

A key background text for Patrick’s “defensive strategy” is clearly 2 Corinthians 12:7-10. Listen to Paul: “Most gladly, therefore, I will rather boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me.Therefore I am well content with weaknesses, with insults, with distresses, with persecutions, with difficulties, for Christ’s sake; for when I am weak, then I am strong.”

Patrick knows how easily one can be deceived (44) and moved away from a proper attitude towards God, and hence his weaknesses and failings serve as continual reminders of his need for dependence on God.

I remember hearing a quote some years back which helps me understand Patrick’s perspective. Here it is: “Royalty is my identity; service is my assignment; intimacy with God is my source of strength.”

To answer the question properly, it’s best to do a quick study of what the New Testament says about “saints.” The word “saints” is a translation of a Greek word (“hagioi”) which means “holy ones.” So who are the saints (and how do you get to be one?!)

In 1 Corinthians 1:2 Paul calls his readers “the church of God which is at Corinth, to those who have been sanctified in Christ Jesus, saints by calling, with all who in every place call upon the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, their Lord and ours.” Paul defines the church of God at Corinth (the Christians at Corinth, his readers) as “those who have been sanctified (Greek – hagiazo) in Jesus Christ, saints (Greek – hagioi) by calling.” There are not two groups here that he writes the letter to, the church and the saints, but one group, the church of God in Corinth, who are saints!

It’s the same across the New Testament. In the book of Acts, Ananias refers to Saul of Tarsus and “how much harm he did to Thy saints at Jerusalem (Acts 9:13). We are told of Peter who “came down also to the saints who lived at Lydda” (Acts 9:32); and Paul who tells King Agrippa that while in Jerusalem, he locked up “many of the saints in prisons” (Acts 26:10).

The word “saints” is Paul’s normal designation for those who receive his letters. He writes to the Christians at Rome, “to all who are beloved of God in Rome, called as saints” (Rom. 1:7); to the Corinthians, “to the church of God which is at Corinth with all the saints who are throughout Achaia” (2 Cor. 1:1); to Ephesus (“to the saints who are at Ephesus, and who are faithful in Christ Jesus” Eph. 1:1), Philippi (“to all the saints in Christ Jesus who are in Philippi” (Phil. 1:1); “to the saints and faithful brethren in Christ who are at Colossae” (Col. 1:2) among many other references.

In other passages, Christians communities are referred to as a holy “temple,” “building,” or “house“; or they are called “priests” or a “priesthood,” which clearly refers to their holy status before God.

Paul tells the Corinthians, “Do you not know that you are a temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwells in you? If any man destroys the temple of God, God will destroy him, for the temple of God is holy, and that is what you are” (1 Cor. 3:16-17).

He reminds the Corinthians, “Or do you not know that the saints will judge the world” (1 Cor. 6:2)?

Paul prays that the Ephesians “may know what is the hope of His calling, what are the riches of the glory of His inheritance in the saints” (Eph. 1:18).

He commends the Colossians because of “the love which you have for all the saints” (Col. 1:4); and he does the same to Philemon: “I hear of your love . . . toward all the saints.”

So who are the saints, according to the New Testament? -These passages –with many others – present living Christians on earth to be saints, holy ones, holy priests before God. Also, there is no evidence of a distinction being made between “ordinary” Christians on the one hand, and saints on the other.

So how did they become saints?

According to the New Testament, the holiness that a saint possesses, that makes him a holy one, is not his own holiness, but the holiness of Jesus Christ that has been imputed to him through faith. It is a holiness received not a holiness achieved.

Paul tells the Corinthians that Jesus, by His life and death became “sanctification/holiness” for us: “He is the source of your life in Christ Jesus, who became for us wisdom from God, and righteousness and sanctification and redemption (1 Cor. 1:30).

Paul tells the Colossians that the result of Christ’s death on the cross for them was reconciliation with God and holiness: “yet He has now reconciled you in His fleshly body through death, in order to present you before Him holy and blameless and beyond reproach” and that the only way to remain holy in God’s sight is to continue to believe the Gospel, “if indeed you continue in the faith firmly established and steadfast, and not moved away from the hope of the gospel that you have heard” (Col. 1:22-23).

When Christ appeared to Paul, He explained Paul’s mission in these words, “I am sending you, to open their eyes so that they may turn from darkness to light and from the dominion of Satan to God, in order that they may receive forgiveness of sins and an inheritance among those who have been sanctified by faith in Me” (Acts 26:18).

So we come at last to ask the question: Would Patrick have called himself a saint?

The answer, of course, is yes, since Patrick took his stand upon what the New Testament said, and not upon his own efforts, works, triumphs and failings. He begins and continues the Confession with a total awareness of his own inadequacy. The emphatic descriptor is peccator, sinner, a stone in the mud, sure, but a stone raised and set on high.

Patrick’s confidence was not in his own ability or unique importance but in the grace of the God who had rescued him, restored him, commissioned him and who sustained him through every trial.

One more point. It’s interesting to notice that the word “saint” never appears in the New Testament in the singular. Not once.

That’s surely because the holiness of God is in Jesus, and it is as we are in Him, corporately, that we share His holiness. So would Patrick have allowed a personal designation that robbed Christ of His central place?

“Whom we believe and whom we await.” In Section 4 of the Confession, there’s something of Patrick’s statement of faith about the future in Christ.

Everything we can see, and everything beyond our sight, was made through him. He became a human being; and, having overcome death, was welcomed to the heavens to the Father. The Father gave him all power over every being, both heavenly and earthly and beneath the earth. Let every tongue confess that Jesus Christ, in whom we believe and whom we await to come back to us in the near future, is Lord and God. He is judge of the living and of the dead; he rewards every person according to their deeds… (4)

It’s a very Christ-centred understanding, hinging upon the One “quemcredimusetexpectamus.”

First, Christ is credited as creator, and Patrick brings together two New Testament verses: ‘All things were made by him [the Word, in Greek ὁ λόgos, = Jesus Christ]’ (John 1:1,3), and ‘For by him [Jesus Christ] were all things created’ (Colossians 1:16). This second verse contains the powerful phrase “things visible and invisible” (“uisibiliaetinuisibilia”) which reminds that this is not all about future expectation but about the spiritual realities of the present world.

And then there’s a brief, almost credal synopsis, comprising incarnation (He became a human being), victory over death (having overcome death), and ascension (welcomed to the heavens to the Father) before giving strong statement of Christ’s authority (all power over every being, both heavenly and earthly and beneath the earth).

Patrick states the old symbolism of the three-decker universe “caelestiumetterrestriumetinfernorum” drawn from Philippians 2:10, which again, is a handy thumbnail descriptor of present spiritual reality: heaven, earth and “under the earth.” That is to say, this is a spiritual, rather than spatial awareness.

And since authority now resides in Christ, judgement -final judgement- will ensue upon His return. Jesus Christ, in whom we believe and whom we await to come back to us in the near future, is Lord and God. He is judge of the living and of the dead; he rewards every person according to their deeds…

Throughout his writings, Patrick exhibits no doubt about his own eternal destiny. He would partake in the resurrection of the just and live and reign with Christ forever. Patrick had the certainty of eternal life because the Lord Jesus died and was crucified for the slaves of God and the baptized maidservants of Christ (Letter 7). We believe and we await the final fulfillment of God’s promise of the salvation of the nations when forever believers will sit down with Abraham, Isaac and Jacob” (39; Matt. 8:11). This expression of a “sure and certain hope” is quite different from what we read in much of the medieval church’s writings. For example, the Irish believers slain by Coroticus’ men (Letter 2-3, 15) are described by Patrick as being in Paradise (Letter 17) and in the kingdom of heaven (Letter 18). On the other hand, the wicked have their part in the lake of everlasting fire (Letter 18). So there is no purgatory in Patrick’s thinking, and indeed, as James Bullock noted, there is “No reference to purgatory [in any]… Irish writing prior to the tenth century.”

Underlying all of Patrick’s faith and hope is an unshakable trust in the Word of God. He can go as a missionary to a hostile land because he is armed with the Word. He can face fierce opposition on account of the promises of heaven (55). He can rebuke the powerful Coroticus and his bloodthirsty soldiers because he knows that the message he brings is not his but the Lord’s. As he says near the end of his Letter,

That which I have set out in Latin is not my words but the words of God and of apostles and prophets, who of course have never lied. He who believes shall be saved, but he who does not believe shall be damned. God has spoken (Letter 20).

That last sentence, God has spoken, has a kind of prophetic imprimatur about it. God said it. I believe it. That settles it.

And the Lord whom we believe and expect is not only a future expectation but the present supreme authority over all things visible and invisible.

Patrick’s whole Confession is a declaration of the dynamic of grace working in and through his life. His own humility, in view of such grace, is evidenced in the famous opening line : I am Patrick, a sinner, most uncultivated and least of all the faithful and despised in the eyes of many (1). He speaks of the sins of his youth and presents them as being committed against God. He knew that We shall all certainly render an account even for the smallest sins before the judgment seat of the Lord Christ ( 8). In his waywardness, he had deserted the God of his fathers and disobeyed His commandments and neglected the church’s message of salvation, but the Lord was gracious to him (1).

And it was [in Ireland] that the Lord opened the understanding of my unbelieving heart, so that I should recall my sins even though it was late and I should turn with all my heart to the Lord my God, and he took notice of my humble state and pitied my youth and my ignorance and protected me before I knew him and before I had sense or could distinguish between good and bad and strengthened me and comforted me as a father comforts his son (2).

Note that in Patrick’s salvation the Lord is active. The Lord “opened” Patrick’s heart. The Lord “noticed,” “pitied,” “protected,” “strengthened,” and “comforted” Patrick. “The Lord opened the understanding of my unbelieving heart, so that I should recall my sins … [and] turn with all my heart to the Lord my God,” he writes (cf. Acts 16:14).

“So that is why I cannot keep silent,” he begins his next sentence. He thanks the Lord for His “great acts of kindness” and His “great grace” and speaks of his desire to “praise and confess his wonderful works among every nation that is under the sky” (3). Grace was the motivating factorthat both initiated and sustained his calling as a missionary. Many years later Patrick still marvels at the grace of the God who saved him:

Consequently I am strictly bound to cry out so as to make some repayment to the Lord for those benefits of his which were so great here and in eternity which the mind of man cannot calculate ( 12).

Perhaps the clearest—and the most earthy—presentation of the sovereignty of God in Patrick’s salvation is found in his simile of the stone in deep mud. Before I was humiliated I was like a stone that lies in deep mud, and he who is mighty came and in his compassion raised me up and exalted me very high and placed me on the top of the wall (12).

It is hard to conceive of imagery which more sharply conceives of the passivity of the sinner and the saving power of God. It is also significant that this language came from Patrick’s heart and experience. Elsewhere, his writing indicates his great dependence on scriptural language, but here he tells us what his salvation was to him in his own words. “I was like a stone in deep mud,” he tells us, “but the mighty God reached down and lifted me up.”

Patrick had grasped clearly that salvation is a gift of God (14) and this is the message that this simple missionary to the Irish preached.He repeatedly refers to his call to preach the gospel in Ireland as a “gift” of God to him (e.g., 16, 33, 62). God, not Patrick himself, called him to his mission (56), for he received his office from God’s hand (Letter 1). Patrick humbly confesses that he was not worthy of the high calling of the bishopric (32). “I truly am a debtor to God,” he affirms (38). With a sense of the greatness of God’s blessings to him, he cries out, “Who am I, Lord?” (34; cf. 55-56; II Sam. 7:18). These are the words of a man who believed and preached the gospel of grace.
Patrick speaks of his desire to return to his “country and kinsfolk” in Britain and to see the saints in Gaul, but knows that he dare not do so. He would be sinning against the Lord for he is “bound in the Spirit” to his Irish calling (43). His life, he tells us, is one of service to “Christ my God, on whose behalf I am fulfilling a mission” (Letter 5; cf. 56).

In a memorable phrase that encapsulates that sense of the dynamic of grace, John T. McNeill speaks of Patrick’s “intense consciousness of divine authorization.”

The Confession of Patrick contains seven or eight references to his dreams. Two of these dreams occurred at significant junctures in Patrick’s life: the message he received as a slave to depart from Ireland by ship (17) and his call as a missionary to Ireland by Victoricus (23).

The former, perhaps, merely presents to his mind the desire of his heart to escape from the land of his captivity.

The latter may be explained, perhaps, as the product of a burden to reach the Irish with the gospel of Christ. This was on his mind and he ended up dreaming about it one night.

Most striking is the fact that Patrick introduces two of his dreams with the words “I saw in a vision of the night,” evidently taken from Daniel 7:13 (23, 29).

In the Bible God used dreams and visions (cf Numbers 24:4) many times to communicate with people. Visions seem to have been common enough that their lack was sorely noted. An absence of visions was due at times to a dearth of prophets (1 Samuel 3:1,) and other times due to the disobedience of God’s people (1 Samuel 28:6).

The point being that Patrick would read from the Bible of a God used those dreams and visions to reveal His plan, to further His plan, and to put His people in places of influence.

Have a look, for example, at the experience of Abraham(Genesis 15:1): where a powerful and mysterious encounter restated theAbrahamic Covenant, and reminded him that he would have a son and be the father of many nations. Jacob ‘s dream of a ladder (Genesis 28:10-17), reaching to heaven on which angels ascended and descended, underlined God’s promise that Abraham’s blessing would be carried on through him. Joseph, of course, (Genesis 37:1-11) is one of the most famous dreamers, and one of the most famous dream-interpreters, in the Bible. His first recorded dreams are found in Genesis 37 indicating God’s promised plans of blessing. The entire narrative develops through a series of dreams, until that first one is accomplished.

Daniel (Daniel 2;4), as Joseph, rose to high influence in a pagan kingdom through the interpretation of a significant dream.

In the New Testament, the most obvious precursors of Patrick’s dreams of God are Joseph (Matthew 1:20;2:13, whose series of dreams had the one purpose of protecting the Messiah. And, among several others, Paul had a few significant dreams and visions in his missionary career. One sent him to preach in Macedonia (Acts 16:9-10). Another encouraged him to keep preaching in Corinth (Acts 18:9-11). God also gave him a vision of heaven (2 Corinthians 12:1-6).

There seems little doubt that Patrick understood his dreams as indicators of God’s plans and purposes for his life. The phrasing of Paul’s “Macedonian Dream,” “Come over and help us” does seem to echo the Victoricus dream, and the idea of being a man of influence in a pagan kingdom would seem to reflect the experience of Daniel.

And more than that, his general understanding of God as a living, speaking Director of events, forces the conclusion that this charismatic aspect of Patrick’s walk with God is part of the real historical core of who he was.

The phrase “homo unius libri” (“a man of one book”) is sometimes applied to John Wesley, in recognition of his constant recourse and dependence upon the Bible. The same -if not more- may be said of Patrick, who quotes the Bible 54 times in his short Letter to Coroticus and a full 135 times in the Confession. These usages are not always full-blown citations but sometimes the apparently unconscious reflections of the Biblical text.

Even so, he cites 23 out of the 27 books of the New Testament, 12 books of the Old Testament, and 3 of the Apocrypha, but using mostly the Psalms, Romans, Acts, Corinthians and Matthew, (in that order).

On a few occasions, there is a whole catena of quotations (as in Confession 38,40; Letter 2,18), but throughout the texts almost every sentence contains its Biblical trace element, either in phrasing, wording or thought-process. One sees much the same in Charles Wesley’s hymns. In the case of the Wesley brothers, however, the base text was the King James Version of 1611, whereas Patrick quoted the Old Latin translation (and not the later Vulgate of Jerome).

Despite this constant usage of the Bible, it is interesting to consider that no one else is quoted. Not Augustine (and not Pelagius either, by way of a loaded example). Muirchú -Patrick’s later biographer- was happy to quote classical authors such as Virgil and Sedulius, by .contrast

But neither does Patrick embroider what he quotes. Many of those “church fathers,” whom he didn’t quote, were busily allegorizing strange new weaves out of the Biblical thread. R.P.C. Hanson (the late and distinguished bishop of Clogher) said that Patrick’s “biblical interpretation [was] remarkably sound and sensible,” and that after all the contemporary mis-interpretation, “one turns with relief to the straightforward and simple use which Patrick makes of the Bible.”

We should note, however, that although Patrick does not cite the church fathers, he does quote the Apocrypha. Hanson identifies eleven quotations from Wisdom, Ecclesiasticus, Tobit, Song of the Three Holy Children, and I Maccabees. In Confession 11, he quotes from Ecclesiasticus 7 with the words “in another place the Spirit testifies” showing his belief in its inspiration.

So how did Patrick use the Bible? He used it simply, with integrity, allowing it to speak for itself, and being careful not to add or subtract anything from it.

This was his invariable pattern, for one good reason.

It’s a reason that is well expressed by A.W.Tozer here:

“The Bible is not an end in itself, but a means to bring men to an intimate and satisfying knowledge of God, that they may enter into Him, that they may delight in His Presence, may taste and know the inner sweetness of the very God Himself in the core and center of their hearts.”